


9:45

by Precious_Little_Stardust



Series: tumblr fic prompts. [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Clumsy!Stiles, Ficlet, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2647118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Precious_Little_Stardust/pseuds/Precious_Little_Stardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well, the thing was that all these people were between him and his beloved second morning-coffee(which he needed. Desperately.) and the hot coffee-guy with stubble, thick eyebrows (which seemed to rise every once in a while when the guy was surprised that people actually weren’t as stupid as he thought) and a more grim-looking expression than Snape, duh."</p>
            </blockquote>





	9:45

**Author's Note:**

> Fic prompt: "THIS GUY JUST ASKED ME WHAT MY NAME WAS AND I DIDNT UNDERSTAND WHAT HE SAID SO I SAID 4:45"  
> I saw it on tumblr and couldn't help but smile and think about Stiles freaking out in front of an annoyed and somewhat amused Derek. So this happened.

It’s Friday morning. Last day of college before Christmas-break and Stiles did not have time to wait for his second morning-coffee in the coffee shop around the corner where he always got his second morning-coffee.

To be honest: He was late as hell even without the long queue in front of him. Businessmen in tightly fitting suits, a middle-aged woman with a crying baby on the right shoulder and a blond student, around his age maybe? (He only saw the back of the curly-haired head.)

Well, the thing was that all these people were between him and his beloved second morning-coffee(which he needed. Desperately.) _and_ the hot coffee-guy with stubble, thick eyebrows (which seemed to rise every once in a while when the guy was surprised that people actually weren’t as stupid as he thought) and a more grim-looking expression than Snape, duh. Like, wow did this guy look good in his uniform which clung to his broad shoulders and general impressive physique. Plus it seemed like it was half a size too small (he would never complain, though. Admiring this view made his whole week, probably – which, well, was kind of sad, wasn’t it?). 

 

It looked like this was his first shift in the shop – it had to be, Stiles hadn’t seen him in these past months since he started going to college here– but his sour gaze made him look competent enough – at least for the four businessmen still talking about stupid business-things which weren’t as interesting as looking at the nice shape of the guy’s ass when he had to bend over to make the coffee! Stiles fell for his cheekbones, like, a second after he laid eyes on the sharp edges and the 5’o-clock-shade around his chin …

Well, screw college, it was the last day anyway. The last day before Christmas-break even! (Ugh, it didn’t matter that this guy was, like, 5000 miles out of his league – might as well be as high as the sun itself, or hung it for that matter – but he would not walk away without trying. He promised himself that much after the whole Lydia-15-year-plan that never worked out, okay? What’s the worst that could happen anyway?)

 

So, that was how he found himself after five long minutes of waiting (and subtle staring) in front of the counter. (After he texted Scott that he wouldn’t show up for his first class probably.) It smelled like heaven here, really. Baked goodies lined up in front of him, the waking call of fresh-made coffee lingered in the air. He sniffed once, twice before he looked over the counter at the hot guy in his brownish uniform and his dark black hair and really interesting eyes which changed their color every second, or so it seemed.

Stiles gaped for – at least – ten seconds shamelessly until he realized that the guy – Derek, that’s what his name-tag read – actually looked at him with super-high-raised eyebrows and an expression that might as well has said “What the fuck are you peering at, huh?” – mingled together with the crossed arms in front of his chest, it looked slightly intimidating, yep. But he would not back out of this, nope, too late for that.

He licked his dry lips, blinked and shook his head out of the stupor of his own thoughts. What was he doing? _Concentration, Stilinski, gosh. Please. Don’t fuck this up again …_

And yep, Derek looked even more handsome and muscular than five meters ago.

 

Stiles closed his eyes for a second, biting his already bruised bottom lip. Swollen from all the worrying and thinking before.

“Hey, uh ... could you get me a plain old black coffee, please? Without the milk, y’know. I hate milk in my coffee, so …” he asked, and did not fail to make himself look stupid.

His hands made these weird movements, you see? And that’s why the plastic-lids on the counter plummeted scattering across the floor, moments after he gave his order.

 

Derek’s eyebrows rose even higher while he wrinkled his nose. Stiles blushed and dropped down on his knees before hot coffee-shop-Derek could even think about yelling at him for ruining his whole shift. Stiles wouldn’t hold it against him, though. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ugh, that’s just like me. Sorry for that, big guy, okay? I’ll help you with that, of course! It’s all my fault anyway …” he rambled on. “Seriously, I did not plan on being a clumsy klutz, I just wanted to get my coffee” _– and your number –_ “and get out of here, okay? Sorry, really.”

He gathered up the caps and attempted to bring them all up with him at once. But … of course he failed. Again.

At least he had the decency to put the one cap he managed to hold onto back on the counter. Such a great help, really. He should get an award for being the most embarrassing human being on the entire planet for that.

 

Derek gave out a long-suffering sigh.

“Just let it be, I’ll do it later”, he grunted between clenched teeth and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Just … come up here and tell me-“ he begun again, but that was when the coffee-machine started to crush new coffee beans for his fresh-made coffee. Stiles couldn’t make out for the life of him what Derek tried to ask him next.

He looked up and gave lip-reading a shot. Well. He made a serious effort but failed, of course. What did Derek say? He was pretty sure there was “time” involved, or maybe clock? Uh. Okay. Time, right. He rummaged through his pockets. The machine stopped crushing the beans (and his nerves).

“It’s 9.45?” he answered hopefully at his lucky guess after looking down on his phone. “I believe I’m pretty late for classes anyway …”

Derek shook his head, almost half-smiling – at least that’s what Stiles told himself.  The right corner of his mouth shot up a bit. That had to be a smirk! – “No, I asked you for your name, so I can write it on the cup”, he said patiently. Like he was talking to a toddler, while sighing annoyed and somewhat fond. What. Stiles didn’t even know that you could look annoyed and fond at the same time.

 

Oh.

 

Well, it wasn’t like Stiles did not make a fool out of himself before.

But this, my dear friends, was probably the most painful ordeal of a coffee-shop-order Stiles did ever have to endure. In front of a good-looking-guy nonetheless. Right. And the giggling girls behind him, yep.

 

“Oh, sorry, … I’m- … I’m Neville. Neville Longbottom”, he murmured sulking, rubbing the back of his neck in that kind of nervous manner that had gotten him in this awkward situation in the first place. But wait, what, wow, was that a smile? Oh gosh, Stiles could swear he saw a tiny rise of these usually downward-looking corners right there!

Derek took his coffee cup and a black sharpie. “Well,” – he looked up through mischievously glinting eyes all the while scribbling something on his cup. “Neville Longbottom it is, then.”

 

Stiles smiled his big goofy smile because this guy got it apparently.

After Derek bend over to get the coffee out of the machine behind him, (first row at checking out this fine ass, yes! He would probably never get to touch it, though, so this had to be good enough – he enjoyed every second of it), he took it gratefully, looking down at the black-shaped letters of “his” name on the cup while walking out of the coffee-shop.

He was halfway down the street until he realized that there wasn’t only a name but also a neatly written phone-number at the bottom of his cup.

 

* * *

 

 **To:** _Scotty_

 **From:** _Stiles_

> _DUDE!_
> 
> _Sorry, I’m late, there was this hot guy at the coffee-shop, you know, and after I chucked down all the caps for the coffee-cups he asked me what my name was but I didn’t understand what he said so I said 9.45._
> 
> _Neville Longbottom got me his number, tho._

Today, 9.59

* * *

 

 **To:** _Stiles_

**From:** _Scotty_

> _You’re telling me that a Neville Longbottom got his number? Who is Neville Longbottom? And … I’m not sure what you’re talking about but well done, dude. Glad you’ll be getting laid finally._

Today, 10.01

* * *

 

 … wow, how the fuck did Scott survive daily encounters with Pop culture?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr! c: knightinshiningarmour-stilinski.tumblr.com


End file.
